


Gloves Off

by grahamcracker76



Category: White Collar
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, F/M, M/M, Multi, Timestamp 4x09, love above all, talking about feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:13:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24519001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grahamcracker76/pseuds/grahamcracker76
Summary: In the aftermath of 4x09, Peter and Neal are both angry and hurting. This is how they get past it.
Relationships: Elizabeth Burke/Peter Burke/Neal Caffrey
Comments: 4
Kudos: 49





	Gloves Off

**Author's Note:**

> I have a love-hate relationship with 4x09. If you haven’t seen it in a while, it’s the one where a case takes Peter and Neal into a high stakes Fight Club scenario. Spoiler alert: they have to fight each other and a lot of feels come out.
> 
> It kills me watching it because I hate to see them fighting!! Why do they always have to be fighting? Buuuut I also kind of love writing angst. Good thing for you guys I like giving my faves happy endings more! Here you’ll find a massive angst fest and some well deserved resolution to all the angst.
> 
> Please note: I debated whether to rate this T or E. I decided on T because there’s only one small paragraph at the end of the second section that might be considered E material. Please skip that paragraph if it’s not your thing! The rest is 100% T.

Peter doesn’t know how he makes it home that night. Usually after a successful bust, he feels elated, flushed with success. Tonight, all he feels is empty. Numb. It’s like he’s stuck in a horrible dream that he can’t wake up from.

Neal’s words echo in his head. _We’re done._ Over and over, _we’re done_ . He remembers the all-consuming anger Neal’s face, the hurt and the betrayal. In all the time they’ve been together, Neal has never looked at him like that, and it cuts Peter to the core, that the relationship they share has shattered so completely. In his head, a thousand Neals turn from him in disgust and walk away. _We’re done._

Peter fumbles with the door handle and all but falls inside. He leans back against the door and lets his head tip back, desperately gulping in the cool air. He hasn’t had a panic attack in years, but tonight it seems like a distinct possibility. He squeezes his eyes shut, but it’s no use. All he can see is Neal.

“Honey, is that you?”

Elizabeth’s voice, he thinks dimly. El. She can’t know how bad it is. If he’s this broken over it… she can’t. Over the past months, Neal has slid into their lives seamlessly, becoming the third person in this relationship as if he’s always belonged there. And maybe he always had - they just hadn’t realized what it meant, before.

But that was before. This is now. And now, he has to move. He shakes his head, but he can’t get a clear focus on anything. He’s still carrying his briefcase, he thinks. He makes his stiff fingers release the handle and it falls to the floor with a thud, but he can’t make his legs move. He can’t.

“Peter?” El, he thinks. He tries to speak, but he doesn’t have the words. He tries to move, but he can’t. It seems he can’t do anything right, these days.

A gasp, a strangled sob. El’s hands, cool on his face and chest. “Oh honey,” she says. “What happened?”

Peter instinctively turns his head towards her voice and her warmth, leaning into her touch. He thinks of Neal, who believes he has no one left to turn to. He feels sick and helpless, dread twisting his stomach and leaving him empty.

“I fucked up,” he says, in a voice that does not sound like his own.

***

Neal stares at himself in the mirror. His skin bears the signs of the day’s beating, dark purple and blue bruises forming along his ribs, his chest, and his jaw. He gently prods at the swelling skin near his eye and winces. Ouch - that’s going to hurt like a bitch. Peter hadn’t been pulling his punches, but then again, neither had he.

He remembers the single-minded fury that had rushed through him when Sam called and revealed that Peter had ruined everything - _everything._ He made the conscious decision not to show Sam the tape and yet Peter went behind his back and looked into Sam without a second thought. He remembers the hurt and betrayal and the anger, rendering everything else irrelevant.

He remembers looking at Peter and feeling only fury. Does what they share mean so little to him? Peter will let him into his life and his home and his marriage and his bed, but when it comes down to it Peter still doesn’t trust him. Neal remembers that even in his rage, his hands did not tremble. He remembers wanting one thing: to hurt Peter as much as possible. If he could make Peter feel one ounce of the pain he feels…

Neal looks at himself in the mirror, and it’s like looking at the face of a stranger. He doesn’t know who he is, who he’s becoming, and it scares him. He looks down at his hands, and they’re shaking. He grips the sink tighter, looking away from his own reflection. He doesn’t like what he sees.

The truth is, he said they were done, but he needs Peter. He needs Peter and Elizabeth and their circle of warmth and acceptance and love, as he’d never experienced it before. He needs them, and he wants Peter’s help, even now. He’s always wanted it, but Sam said no and Neal _needs_ Sam, why can’t Peter understand that? Sam is his only surviving connection to his father, and not even Peter can give him that, no matter how far the reach of the FBI goes. And now Sam is gone. In the end, he’s left with nothing.

Neal growls in frustration and strips off his briefs. He steps into the shower and tips his head into the stream of water, letting it wash over his tired muscles.

He tries not to think of Peter and Elizabeth. He won’t imagine what they could be doing right now - he can’t bear it. Instead, he closes his eyes and resolutely thinks of nothing at all as he reaches down and strokes himself hard and firm, desperate for release - any release. He comes with a strangled cry. If he calls for El and Peter… well. No one else will ever know.

***

“I fucked up, El,” Peter says. He doesn’t know how much time has passed - all he remembers is sinking down to the ground and collapsing into El’s arms. He remembers her holding him and murmuring softly, her lips at his temple as he fell apart in her arms. He remembers crying himself out until there was nothing left, only the hard truths he’s been too much of a coward to face.

He sighs and leans back against the door. “It’s bad this time,” he says, turning his head to look at her. Elizabeth really is a remarkable woman, he thinks dimly. She hasn’t asked any questions all this time; she hasn’t pressed him once. She waited until he was ready. Just like she waited for Neal for his sake, Peter thinks, and feels even more guilty. He swallows. “I don’t know if he can forgive me for it.”

Elizabeth frowns. “It can’t be as bad as that,” she says. “You’ve come back from this before. There was the music box, and the treasure… it was hard, but you moved past it. That’s what you and Neal do, Peter.”

He shakes his head. “Yeah, but none of that was personal,” he tells her. “This… I knew how much this means to Neal, but I didn’t really see. I didn’t _understand_. And now… I don’t know if he’ll trust me again.”

“Shhhh,” El says, resting her head on his shoulder and pulling him close. “Neal trusts you, hon. That kind of thing just doesn’t disappear overnight. He’s hurting right now, so he’s lashing out. That doesn’t make it right, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you.”

Peter swallows. “What if love isn’t enough?”

“I don’t believe that,” Elizabeth says. “And you don’t believe that either.”

“Right now, I’m not so sure,” Peter admits heavily.

Elizabeth stares at him for a moment. Then, she gets to her feet. “Okay,” she says. “I’ll prove it to you. You love me, right? And that means you’d do anything for me.” Peter nods, and she smiles. “Good. You love Neal too, and so do I. So that’s exactly what we’re going to do for him - anything.”

Peter frowns at her. “I can’t break the law, El,” he says.

She crosses her arms in response. “Is Neal _asking_ you to break the law?” she asks. “Wouldn’t he do this anyway with or without your help? Then why not work with him and not against him? I know Neal, Peter - he wants your help. He hates keeping things from you, I can see it. He doesn’t want to push you away.”

“So what do I do?” Peter asks helplessly.

Elizabeth smiles. “Don’t push _him_ away,” she says softly. “Reach out. Help him. Keep him on the right track. Protect him from himself. Protect us, because I don’t know what we’ll do without him. Or what _he_ would do without us.”

Dimly, Peter nods. “I can do that,” he says. “It’s what I should have been doing all along.”

“Then _tell_ him that,” El says. She holds out her hand, and Peter takes it automatically, letting her pull him up. “He’ll understand. It might take time, but love _is_ enough. Always.”

Peter smiles. “You really are the best wife ever,” he says.

She squeezes his hand, her eyes wet but her gaze determined. “I know,” she tells him. “Now let’s go and find Neal - I’m not letting him go through this night alone.” She smiles. “I’ll drive.”

***

Neal is jerked out of a restless sleep by insistent knocking at his door. He blinks and rolls over, scrubbing a hand across his face. “Just a minute!” he calls. He hasn’t been expecting anyone, but he’s no stranger to late-night visitors. If it had been any other night… he pulls on a robe and opens the door to find Peter and Elizabeth standing there.

“Hi Neal,” Elizabeth says, offering him a hesitant smile. Peter is silent, but his face is soft. He looks at Neal, and keeps looking at him as though he’s the best thing he’s ever seen.

Neal blinks. They’re still there. He frowns. “No,” he says, and shuts the door. He puts his head in his hands, his pulse racing, his heart beating fast. He tries to pull himself together.

The knocking starts again. He takes a deep breath. He opens the door. “Why are you here?”

“We’re here for you, Neal,” Elizabeth says.

Neal snorts, resting a hand against the side of the door. “Yeah,” he says. “Right. Like you were there for me when Ellen was killed, like you were there for me when Sam left.”

He looks at Peter, who looks right back, not hiding from his gaze. “I know I’m doing a crap job of it,” he says, “but El is right. Everything I do, I do for you. I do it to protect you, because whenever something happens to you…” he breaks off, his voice shaking. His hands are also shaking, Neal notices. This hasn’t been easy on Peter, either. Peter takes a deep breath and fixes him with a firm gaze. “I know I’ve hurt you,” he says, “and I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry. I know I keep making a mess of this. I keep failing you - I keep failing us. But I’m trying. I’m trying because Neal, I don’t want us to be done.”

Neal stares at him, his eyes wide. Peter is never so candid, so open. Peter doesn’t like to talk about emotions, he knows that. What happened today has knocked something loose in him. Peter is finally letting Neal in, and Neal is left breathless with it. He glances at Elizabeth, who is studying him knowingly. She gives him a small smile and nods. _It’s real,_ she seems to say. _Trust him._

And the thing is, Neal does trust Peter, and he knows that Peter trusts him, no matter what he’d said in anger earlier that day, lashing out in the only way he knew how. They trust each other. They just do a spectacularly bad job of acting on it.

“I know,” Neal says. “But Peter, this isn’t all on you. I’ve messed up too. And you should be able to call me on it.” He steps aside, a clear gesture of welcome. “I don’t want us to be over, either.”

Peter seems to sag with relief. El smiles bright and hopeful. She steps across the threshold first and leans up to kiss him on the cheek. “We love you, Neal,” she whispers, stroking her fingers through his hair. “We’re not letting you go so easily.”

Neal kisses her temple. “I love you,” he says.

“I know,” she tells him.

He looks over to see Peter still hesitating there in the hallway, still wary, still uncertain. Neal knows how he feels, because it’s how he feels, too. “Peter,” he says softly, reaching out a hand. “Come here.”

Peter crosses over and pulls Neal to his chest, tucking his face in Neal’s shoulder. He takes Neal’s offered hand and tangles their fingers together, his grip firm. Elizabeth is there too, nestled beside them, her arms around them both, her hair tickling Neal’s chin.

“We will be okay,” she says, and Neal believes her.

“I’m sorry, Neal,” Peter whispers, over and over. “I’m so sorry.”

Neal holds him close and strokes his thumb over the back of his hand. “I know,” he says. “I don’t want us to be over. I love you, Peter.”

Peter looks up at him then, and his face is tear-streaked but his eyes are clear. “I love you too,” he says simply.

Neal smiles. It’s a small smile, a bit tired and battered, but still there. He reaches up to gently brush a thumb to the angry red scratch next to Peter’s eye, a mark he’d put there. Peter looks back at him, his gaze warm and steady. He’s not pushing, not asking for anything, just there if Neal wants him. And Elizabeth is there with them, holding them all together. God, he loves them. Whatever else has happened, that much has always been true. And love is enough. They will prove it together.

“Come to bed,” Neal says. “Stay a while. I’ll make you breakfast in the morning and we’ll talk.” Maybe that’s all he wants in the end, Neal thinks. To be welcome amidst the chaos of someone else’s life. To be wanted, no matter what. Maybe he’s already found that, and it’s been here along. He feels almost lightheaded at the thought.

Peter looks at El and smiles. “Of course,” he says.

Neal leans up to kiss him, and the world begins again.

***

E N D

***


End file.
